She doesn’t start to cry but just stands numbly in my arms. When I pull back to meet her gaze, it looks like she’s in a daze.
“Rach?” I ask.
Her eyes focus on my face, then she asks, “How am I going to tell Lainey?”
Suddenly, emotion after emotion, everything from horror to panic to devastation, flashes over her features.
This moment right here is easily the most difficult I’ve ever had to endure. But I’ve always been the strong older brother who handled shit, and now is no different.
Lifting my hands, I frame her face and force her to focus on me. “We’ll tell Lainey together. I’ll explain it to her. We’ll get through this as a family.” I lean a little closer, and my tone is filled with determination and urgency. “You are not alone in this, Rach.” She nods while puffs of air burst over her lips. “I’ll carry you through it.” She nods again, her features morphing into a pleading look. “I’m here.”
Her voice is barely a whisper as she admits, “I’m so scared.”
“I know.” No, I don’t. I have no fucking idea, because I’m not the one dying. “I’m here with you, Rach. Every step of the way.” Nova moves, catching my attention, and I quickly add, “And Nova’s here as well.” I brush my palms over the sides of her face and hair. “We are going to love you so fucking much to make up for ...”
Sylvia lets out a sob. “I’m sorry,” she murmurs before rushing out of the dining room.
Rachel crumbles under the weight of her death sentence, and as her body goes limp, I move fast to catch her. I’ve seen my sister cry many times before, but as she breaks in my arms, it obliterates my heart.
I carry her out of the dining room and head for the nearest couch in the living room. Sitting down, I cradle my sister like a baby and try to will every ounce of strength I have to her.
I would swap places with her in a heartbeat.
Nova sits down beside us and begins to rub her hand up and down Rachel’s back.
It takes a good ten minutes before Rachel is able to regain control of her emotions. Looking feverish and trembling badly, she moves off my lap to sit beside me. Nova hurries to the kitchen to grab a chilled bottle of water from the fridge and brings it to Rachel.
We watch as she takes a few sips, then she asks, “Nova, can you bring me my painkillers? My headache is worse from all the crying.”
Nova darts away as if hellhounds are chasing her.
I wrap my arm around Rachel’s shoulders and try to think of something to say, but everything I think of feels horribly lacking for the gravity of the situation we’re facing.
“I love you, Rach.”
She closes her eyes and leans against my side, which has me holding her tighter.
Sylvia comes out of the guest restroom and takes a seat on the other couch across from us. Her face is blotchy from crying, and she gives me a compassionate look.
“I’m so sorry, Rachel,” she says, her voice scratchy.
Not opening her eyes, my sister can only nod.
As Nova comes rushing down the stairs, Sylvia climbs to her feet. “I’m going to head out so I can get to work on clearing your schedule.”
I give her a grateful expression. “Thanks for everything, Sylvia.”
“Just give me a call or shoot me a text if you need anything.”
Once Sylvia leaves, Nova crouches in front of Rachel and shakes two pills out into her palm.
I stare at Nova as she folds her legs beneath her so she can sit at Rachel’s feet.
Except for when she broke down earlier, she’s been a source of strength and comfort.
Rachel looks at her best friend before she once again asks, “How do I tell Lainey? How do I tell my baby girl I’m dying?”
“We’ll sit her down and explain everything to her as a family,” I answer.
